


Dreaming

by joaniedark



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Voyeurism, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-03
Updated: 2011-11-03
Packaged: 2017-10-25 16:07:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/272181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joaniedark/pseuds/joaniedark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lithuania finds himself remembering his last master while living at America’s house.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreaming

Toris liked living at Alfred’s house. The man, though strange as he could be, was a good employer; kind, generous, and accepting of him as a human being.

 

But best of all, he thought as he quietly closed the door to his quarters one night after all the chores were over, he had some privacy here. Here in his own chamber, he could live out his shameful fantasies without worry of someone bursting in to ruin the moment.

He started to undress slowly, casting his memory back to his time in Ivan’s house. He hadn’t liked living there really-they weren’t the best of conditions, and Ivan himself was quite frightening-but when he thought of those times he was called into the man’s private quarters for a ‘meeting’…

Toris sat on the bed, leaning back against the wall and running a hand over his legs. He imagined it colder and thicker, like he was so familiar with. In his mind he could hear Ivan whispering in his own tongue, words that were somehow comforting though he was sure they were actually quite violent.

The memory’s hand moved to Toris’ cock, as his own hand moved to mimic it. The strokes were long and soft, making Toris twitch…he had always wanted more than that but Ivan, cruel man he was, had loved to make his little Lithuanian squirm. Toris was always too proud to ask for it, but since it was a dream…

“I-Ivan,” he muttered out loud quietly, “do it harder.” The vision in his head smirked, giving his tip a little sqeeze and pushing the brunette back. Toris slid down the wall to comply with his fantasy, breathing sharply as he could almost feel the weight of the larger man holding him against the mattress.

“Harder, you say?” the dream-Ivan said in his light, sweet voice, and gave an angelic smile. The hands, fictional and real, began to move faster, wrapped tighter than before. Toris bit his lip. His other hand slid up his body, scraping his nails along the way. He craved the violence, it always made him harder. Just thinking of the stinging whip hitting his body caused him to thrust up into his hand. It was embarrassing he had liked it, but the pain was so terribly wonderful…

“I want you…Ivan…” he whispered, something he would never have let his abuser know. His hand, now sticky and wet with precum, moved further between his legs. Biting his lip, he pressed two fingers into his already aching entrance. He could feel the hips grinding him, hear the heavy breath, smell those golden flowers on his absent lover…

Alfred was surely asleep by now, it wouldn’t hurt to live out this fantasy as he had wanted it to in the Russian house…

“Ivan…” he said experimentally, and smiled. He could say the man’s name so easily now, without worrying about what anyone would say. “Ivan…more…” he moaned, closing his eyes and smiling wider. “Put it further into me…” He added a third finger, grimacing only slightly before returning to his rhythm. He licked a finger of his unused hand and circled it around a nipple, pretending it was truly the fair-haired man’s tongue kneading the flesh.

“Lithuania…become one with Russia…” he could hear the whisper in his ear. It was a dream, he knew, so logic and sense were no longer needed…he simply replied with an airy “Yes.” He thrust his fingers harder and faster, bucking his hips and panting, gasping whenever a fingertip brushed his prostate. Once again his fingers dug into his own flesh as the sensation seared through him. God, it was just too much…

He let out a scream, wild and strong like he hadn’t in years, as he finally came over the edge, spilling onto his stomach. He sighed dreamily, refusing to open his eyes.

“Ivan…Ivan…” he kept muttering the name, nestling into the sheets and eventually falling into a sleep full of sunshine and flowered fields.

Alfred walked away from the room with a smile on his face, being sure to close the door without a noise so that Toris would never know that he had been watching. Zipping up his trousers and returning to his room, he could only think what a great show that maid of his put on.

That Ivan was a lucky bastard.


End file.
